Prologue: Until we meet again, my friend
by J.A.Kishu
Summary: Eight year old John Watson meets a stranger in the museum. He wants nothing more than to take away this man s lonelyness. "Let s meet again and again until our timelines match and we can continue our life together."


_AN: I will write a huge story with time travel and a romantic love over time. This is only a preview. Hope you enjoy it. The story will take lot of reasearch and I will start to update it after I have written a few chapter._

 **Prologue:** **Until we meet again, my friend**

 _'1979 - London'_

"Is he the one?" Mycroft Holmes, only twelve years old, was standing next to an impressive man. Tall, beautiful and with a mystic aura around him.

"Yes. He is the one and only." The man moved as if he wanted to reach out to the boy who was standing at the end of the hall. The boy was eight years old, small for his age and his eyes were fixed on the latest addition to the Stone Age Collection of the museum. A huge rock, which had been recovered form a cave not far away and covered with caveman paintings.

"Why don't you say hello? He won't remember you." The man next to him shook his head. He couldn't look away from the child. His mother and sister had gone to the next room to look at a caveman's skeleton, still half captured in a stone.

"You have to make sure he finds his way to me. Or I can't guarantee that the world like you know it won't burn. Burn because I was fed up with all of it and let it ruin itself. He is the only reason, was and will ever be my one and only." Mycroft looks at the longing eyes and wished for someone to look at him like that even if only for once in his life.

"Go to him. Make sure he will start looking for you. I will do the rest." With his young age, Mycroft's inexperience and stubbornness were in many ways far less than those of the man next to him but sometimes the others were the ones that needed a little push in the back. Literally.

* * *

The man stumbled into the room and, after a reproaching look back to the child that had pushed him, he walked slowly closer to the boy looking at the caveman's painting. The boy didn't turn around; he was so captured by the simple drawings that he was in his own world. He looked so young and innocent, he would have said weak but he knew better. That child was far from weak. He was strong and forgiving; he was patient and had a will that could never been broken. He knew for sure; he had seen people try in so many ways. But the boy never broke. He stayed strong and resisted time like no one before him.

The man stood next to the boy. "What do you think the painter was thinking?" Surprised to be talked to, the child looked up to the man in the dark clothes with the curly hair and the galaxy eyes. That's how the child would describe the man's eyes in years to come but now he is drawn into them like a black hole.

"You mean the caveman?" The man nodded and tried to figure out if the question was too hard to answer for a child. He had never really felt good around them; they reminded him of the thing he didn't have: change. "He thinks he is an outsider, alone. He thinks he has no one he can turn to, not by choice but more because he was born like it."

The man looked back at the painting. It showed one man, bigger than the others, outside a group, surrounded by light while the group was gathered around a fire. On the picture were also animals and plants, but nothing was close to the slightly bigger figure. "How do you know he is lonely?"

"Look at the group, they are sitting with their backs to him, he is alone and looks longingly to the group, he wants to be a part of it but he can't because he is different and that separates him from them." The boy showed him the parts of the picture he meant. "I hope he finds someone who likes him for what he is. It would be sad if the man had to change himself only in order to be accepted by others."

"Very wise words, young man. What would you do if you met someone like that? Someone who didn't belong to the place, would you accept him or cast him out like all the others?" The man had to turn away and study the picture again. 'Had he really been lonely when he had drawn that? Had he felt the loneliness? Or was he feeling it only now when looking back?'

"I would take his hand and would ask for his name and then we would become friends. No one should be alone. I don't want anyone to be lonely. That's not a good feeling." Suddenly the boy took the man's hand. The man looked surprised down into the boy's eyes. "You look lonely. Do you want to be my friend?"

The man had to smile: through all the time the child wouldn't change. The man knelt down to be at the height of the boy and took his face into his hands. "I would like to be your friend but I have to go now. Maybe you could look out for me once in a while, so I won't be lonely?" The boy looked a bit perplexed and the man lost it for a second. "Please never stop looking for me John Watson. Find me in all of time, find me. Give me your hand and never let got. Please John find me." Realizing what he was doing, the man let go of the child's face, turned and left the room with big, long steps. He knew what he was risking but he needed the child to grow up first. So that he could be his John, find him and save him over and over again. Until they could meet in John's present time again. Still so many years to wait, so many lonely years.

* * *

Mycroft found the man in a separate room and took him by the hand to the exit. The man was shaking and crying and not responding to him. One of his uncle's cars picked them up and brought them away from the museum, away from the only human being that could bring an immortal god-like creature to fall.


End file.
